Queen Catherine Adventures
by Misty Windows
Summary: A Chronicle of Queen Catherine's Adventures. And a bunch of suitors.
1. Queen Catherine Adventures

This is about Queen Catherine. Little stories in her new found freedom. And a bunch of suitors. Francis and Mary will pop up, time and time again because they'll be the doting mother and father to a newly-single Catherine.

Created for the love of the Holy Trinity of Reign. Queen Catherine, King Francis II, Queen Mary. These three are the whole show.

Enjoy!

* * *

Francis: 'Mother! What is this? That the Duke of so-so requests your hand in -'

Catherine: Oh yes, my dear boy. We're collaborating on making these shoes for ladies to wear. (holding up a high heeled shoe) Isn't it marvelous? Mary even thinks so.

Mary: Yes, its marvelous. I love it! Look at my feet. Its beautiful!

Francis: Yes, dear wife, they look lovely on you, then again everything looks lovely on you. But don't distract me with your lovely feet. Mother! Why does Duke Archibald wants your hand in marriage?

Catherine: Oh? He does? I thought it was the Duke, the one with the pirate's earring? Right, Mary?

Mary: Yes, the pirate king was coming onto you. Last feast. Don't you remember, dear husband? He was sprouting out brilliant poetry about your mother's hair, your mother's eyes, her breast...

Francis: Stop! Don't remind me! How many, Mother? How many suitors are they now?

Mary; Last I check, pirate king duke was 12th, that makes Duke Archibald 13th!

Catherine: Actually, 14. Remember that Scottish musician, Mary? Your mother hired him to play for the French court. Well...

Francis: Oh dear God. We're overrun by suitors.


	2. Enter Leroy

Enter Leroy!

In where Catherine has a real life Barbie doll in Mary.

* * *

Catherine: "Come on, Mary! Stop slouching! Walk slowly towards me. Slowly, slowly-oops!"

Mary's left foot buckles under pressure, tired of wearing high heeled shoes for many hours. She fell gracefully towards the ground, because Queens are always graceful, even when falling.

Mary: "Ouch! I can't do this anymore, Catherine. These shoes are killing me. I need a break!" Instantly, throwing the shoes off to the side and laying on the couch.

Even only wearing her undergarments consisting of plain white shift, Mary is sweating buckets. Who knew walking around with high heeled shoes was such hard labor.

Catherine: "Nonsense. These shoes will be the most wonderful thing to women. Every woman will love them. And own them. And treat them like their own children."

Mary just raises her eyebrow at her.

Catherine: "You don't believe me? Fine. Take a break. And then, we'll practice again-"

And the door suddenly opens violently. Mary shrieks and rolls behind the couch, hiding her semi-nakedness. While Catherine stands like the regal Queen that she is. Even in her undergarments.

Catherine: "Who are you? Guards! Some lunatic-"

A man who look he was starving, in a lusty way, knelt with one knee, gazing up at Catherine, well mostly her breasts.

"Oh Catherine! I have longed for this day to finally meet you. To pay homage to your beauty. To your beautiful and shapely and abundant-"

"Guards, seize him! Duke Leroy! Have you have no shame?'' Francis has come in with his guards, obviously annoyed of the miscreant duke who is already subdued by the guards.

"I have already told you, you will meet my mother during tonight's banquet. Can you not wait? And cover yourself up, Mother."

Catherine just rolled her eyes and wrap her robe around her.

"Pardon me, your majesty. But I simply cannot wait to meet your mother. I wanted to pay tribute first. I have to meet her first before the others arrive." Leroy reasoned against the choking hold of Macciano, the brute yet loyal guard of Catherine.

"Guards, lead Leroy to his room, and don't let him out of your sight, Macciano." Macciano just nods, taking Leroy out of the room, still choking him.

"And what have you been doing, Mother? Mary? In your undergarments? Mary, darling, you alright?"

"Yes!" Mary squeaked, from her hiding place. "No! I think I may have twisted my ankle."

"Vogue. We're practicing our walk, my son. With these heeled shoes on, we're voguing."

"Voguing? Vogue? You're practicing rowing?" as Francis sweeps his wife off the ground and into his arms which earned him a sweet hug and a biting kiss from Mary.

"Pay attention, Francis, I said vogue. We're making history. Doing fashion. We're gonna walk as elegant as we can with these new heeled shoes on. And stop eating each others' faces!" admonishing the horny couple who clearly weren't in the mood or were in the mood for each other and already half lying on the couch.

"I think your ankle's fine, Mary. Just don't stand or walk on it for awhile." Francis massages her ankle while leaving sucking kisses on her leg and feet. Yep, Francis' priorities are clearly in order.

"Oh I supposed I should go and practice with Leroy-"

"Don't you go to Leroy." It took sheer will and Leroy's name from his mother's lips for Francis. Which was a feat in itself. Mary was now attacking his neck.

"You will formally meet Leroy and the others during the banquet. Stop, Mary, darling, I can't think straight when you do that." Mary acquiesced but giggles quietly.

"Others?"

"Yes, Mother. It seems every man, woman, child and every monarch want to meet you, hence this banquet. Tonight."

"Then, I shall take my leave then. I have to prepare and look my best."

She leaves the couple who were now mauling each other. Last she looked, Francis' head was buried between Mary's breast as her legs wrapped around his back.

"I hope by winter, we'll be overrun by little Francis and Marys".


	3. Portuguese Music

Portuguese Music

* * *

Catherine was in her element.

She loves celebrations.

She loves her golden crown littered with diamonds, rubies and garnet.

She loves her big bauble of a ruby ring commissioned for her by her son King Francis II.

She loves her own Catherine ruby necklace. Yes, she designed the exquisite jewelry herself.

She loves her glorious red and black ball gown.

And she loves, LOVES her red high-heeled shoes.

Nothing can go wrong.

Except, that horrid music.

...

Didn't she say that she wants Portuguese music?

She wants festive.

She wants passion.

She wants the twirls, the dips, the lifts, the drama of the dance.

She wants the push and pull, the rise and fall of that wonderful Portuguese music.

And she wasn't getting it.

Someone is going to pay.

Except, it was her beloved son Francis who organized this celebration.

...

A celebration for her.

After all, as Queen Dowager, everyone wants to meet her.

There's really nothing wrong with the French, Spanish, Scottish music playing right now.

Except, she wasn't celebrating as she should be. She just wants her Portuguese music.

...

Oh dear, the dilemma.

She doesn't want to say it, but Francis has no taste in good music.

Except, she knows Francis does have good taste in music. Just not of the Portuguese sort.

...

Now, how can a Queen Dowager get her way without usurping her King of a son?

A. she could bribe her lady-in-waiting Soleil to discreetly get the musicians to play the festive tune.

But eventually, the music will go back to what's on the itinerary.

B. she could ask Francis' permission to change the music.

But then, she can already see it. Francis would roll his eyes, and say 'Mother, no! It's rude!'

Except, it wasn't. Rude, that is. Francis just didn't like Portuguese music. Just like he abhors Tomas, the Portuguese prince who was once betrothed to Mary. And killed French soldiers. And tried to kidnap Mary. And hurt Mary. And could have killed Mary. Everything boils down to Mary.

...

Hmmm...

'Oh Mary dear, lovely music, isn't it?' Catherine says cunningly. She sidles up to Mary's right flank while giving Mary a cup of wine.

'Oh yes, it is!' Mary gushes and drinks her wine generously. 'Its the first song Francis and I danced during the Calais celebration!'

'Yes, I remember. You and Francis look so happy dancing to this ridiculous music.'

'I must admit, it was rather, not my cup of tea, but dancing with Francis makes up for it. Especially when he's gotten taller and stronger and-' Mary giggles and blushes remembering how strong her husband is now.

Catherine raises an eyebrow, these two, really, horny as two rabbits in the wild.

'I must admit, Francis being a soldier, going to war, albeit reckless and scary, has rather given him much confidence in himself. He's becoming a great leader. A king he was born to be.'

Mary sighs. 'I know. He's a commander. The commander.' And fans herself while giving her husband flirty looks across the hall.

'He can be my commander any-time.' Did Mary just purr? Catherine looks alarmed. What did that cup of wine contained?

Mary wipes her forehead, 'Is it getting hot in here, or its just me?'

'I think its just you. Mary, are you alright?' genuine concern etched on Catherine's face. 'You look a little flushed. Here, have some more wine. Or better, have water.' Who knows what with the wine.

'Thank you, Catherine.' Taking a huge gulp of water.

The music changes to Francis and Mary's wedding song. And the air cackles with electricity while Francis approaches his wife for a well-deserved dance.

'May I have this dance, my dear wife, Mary, my Queen?' Francis bows fluidly.

Mary curtsies daintily. 'Yes, you may, husband, my commander, my King.'

The King of France and the Queen of Scots took to the dance floor, dancing to their hearts' contents.

There was twirling, smirks, dipping, smiles all around, grasping, lip-biting, hand-holding, kissing and gasp!

Did Francis lift Mary off the floor? Oh yes, he did. My, stronger indeed.

And oh, he's carrying his wife out of the dance floor! And away they go, kissing. Towards the hallway, leaving the entire congregation with jaws hanging.

Except Catherine. She's all smiles.

The music changes to more upbeat, a bit of Portuguese music.

'Your grace, may I have this dance?' Orlando, the musicians' leader says to her as he bows and ask for her hand to dance.

Catherine takes the offer and dances. And dances, and dances.

Now, she celebrates like she should.

A Queen named Catherine.

'Damn, I'm good.'

...

Nothing beats the Queen that is Catherine.

Except...

...

...

...

'See! Your mother's having a great time! I told you, she loves this music. Portuguese music!' Mary's glee could be heard in every word she uttered. She and her husband were hiding under the thick covers of the hallway draperies overlooking the dance floor.

Catherine was having a grand time dancing with Orlando, no wait, with Theodore, no wait with Orlando and Theodore. My, what a sight!

'Oh God, my eyes burn. I shouldn't have to see that!' Francis dropped his head towards Mary's neck, with his eyes closed.

Mary giggles. 'Come on, let your mother have fun.'

Pushing Francis away from her neck, she knifes her hands through his hair, mussing it lovingly, 'She deserves it. After all, she brought you into this world for me to love.' and they were kissing each other hungrily.

Francis then, carries his wife away from the draperies, away from the ballroom, away from the hallway, to make music of their own.

'Je t'aime, wife.'

'A loue ye, commander.'


	4. Theodore

Teaser...

* * *

Portuguese Music 2

* * *

After the King and Queen of France left the ballroom, It was like a different celebration, altogether. Not to say, the revelers didn't like to celebrate with the King and Queen but it was kinda awkward to see the two get it on. Well, sometimes. Sometimes, they were cute and sweet. Sometimes, they were romantic and all about sonnets and poetry. Sometimes, they were just plain raunchy. And those times, everyone would run for the hills. Blame it on the wine or whatever, still, it was nice to see passionate love in their king and queen. So praise be.

And the Queen Dowager Catherine was certainly happy that her beloved son and his wife were that happy and content with each other. Never needing other people to quench their thirst.

Also now, that the two were gone from the party, she is dancing up a storm. Having the time of her life. Enjoying her Portuguese suitor - err - music, Portuguese music.

Catherine was happy dancing in her red high heeled shoes. To sway to the rhythm of love, to flicking her hands into an outrageous jazz hand sequence, to getting low - apple bottom jeans, boots with fur - ooops, wrong century.


End file.
